


For a little bit of peace (I would sacrifice everything)

by Tokimi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Gen, One Shot, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 20:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20663513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokimi/pseuds/Tokimi
Summary: Harry Potter feels empty without the Horcrux within him, and wishes for a proper death and peace at last.Falling into a spiral of Dark Magic, he ends up jumping through the veil - and is given a last chance to get into the Afterlife.Yet, he stands to face a choice: save himself or save his worst enemy?





	For a little bit of peace (I would sacrifice everything)

He was going insane.

How in the world had Tom Riddle survived the terror of his Horcruxes?

The small sliver of Voldemort's Soul missing from his own alone was enough for him to start losing his grip on reality.

_No wonder Voldemort was bonkers, _he pondered bitterly.

Harry tried desperately to fill the hole in his Soul, which seemed as torn apart as Tom Riddle's in those moments, crying out in agony for the smallest of slivers.

He had stopped aging after he returned from dead to stop Voldemort, which was convenient for... _the rituals._

Yes, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, saviour of the wizarding world, had started practicing the Dark Arts.

His first rituals were the innocent Samhain And Yule rituals, found in the dusty times of the Black Library, boasting about the fullfillment they were meant to bring.

At first, he felt relief in those feelings the rituals brought.

He felt nearly complete, even, if only for a fleeting moment before the emptiness returned.

But soon, it wasn't enough - he needed _more._

He searched through the ancient shelves of the library, seeking another innocent, harmless ritual.

He found one, which would enhanced his speed.

He preformed it, made himself faster.

Enhanced his senses.

Improved his brain.

Strengthened his body.

And many more, stacking the effects and making him fast, strong, intelligent, anything which would fill him with the feeling of being complete once again, anything to be more than the empty shell he had become.

As he did darker and darker rituals, his eyes changed.

They weren't emerald anymore - instead, they had become an eerie, arctic green, nearly glowing, perhaps described as the coldest shade of Sea Green, chilling the Souls of all they gazed upon.

His skin turned sickly pale, far from the lively bronze it had once been.

His hair softened as one of the first, innocent rituals took hold, becoming a pitch black nobody had seen naturally before, a cool blue sheen the only thing making it seem somewhat human.

His body got more lithe, rituals giving it hidden muscles, yet he couldn't get rid of the disturbingly bony look, which made him seem not quite alive.

He was different from before.

And yet, nobody noticed. Neither did they notice that he didn't need a wand anymore - not after the rituals.

He used it still, yet a wave of his hand would be enough to accomplish most simple spells.

Nobody noticed except Hermione, who ignored the changes.

And except Ron, who had made certain to tell Harry he was there for him if he needed to talk, but didn't pursue it when he saw Harry clearly did _not_ wish to disclose what was troubling him yet.

He broke up with Ginny. Ginny was wonderful, sweet, beautiful and he loved her, but he couldn't go on anymore.

His love was not romantic anymore.

Ginny had been saddened, but ultimately understanding - she had lost so much to the war, how could she blame Harry, who had _died_ in it?

Ah, but he couldn't die. Not anymore.

Harry knew, for he had finally had enough of the gnawing emptiness and commited suicide.

Or, attempted to.

He cut himself yet didn't bleed, hung himself yet wouldn't breathe, stabbed himself, yet it seemed his heart had long since stopped beating.

He had tried magic, then - he couldn't survive the Killing Curse thrice, after all.

Nothing happened when he let his magic form the familiar green, which now seemed warm, almost welcoming to him.

He tried stepping in the way of one, in case his own magic had a defence mechanism in order not to harm its host.

Nothing.

He tried getting kissed by a Dementor.

Yet all if the Dementors ignored him, as if he had long since lost his Soul.

And perhaps he had.

___

In the end, he jumped through the Veil which had killed his Godfather.

And finally, he saw the train station.

There was no Dumbledore this time, instead a cloaked being stood, and a terrifying entity, her black hair darker than Harry's own, empty, soulless gaze seemingly staring right through him.

"Apologies," the being spoke. Her voice was high-pitched and chilled his very being.

"You cannot die again. The train left without you and there will never be another. You have become a Damned, a being that gave up its death."

Harry's world crashed, and he fell on his knees.

"No... That cannot be, I... I cannot feel this emptiness forever."

The being smiled.

"There is a way."

Harry looked up.

"You have something quite precious, Harry Potter. Three objects of great value."

Harry frowned.

What could be so precious as to interest this strange being?

"A wand, a cloak, and a stone."

"The Hallows?! But those were just a myth, right?! I mean, I know they exist, but made by Death is too far..."

"Ah, bit Death made them precisely to aid your kind... You may go back to where it began with them."

"Where it... Began...?"

"The moment the Killing Curse first touched you, you became a potential damned. You may go back and take back what's yours..."

"I'll go back," he nodded resolutely, although he did not have a clue what he was to take back. His Soul? His right to die and get into the Afterlife?

Before he could ponder the meaning, everything went black.

Yet, the being smiled. "I will give you the last chance at peace. Will you take it and go to the afterlife, I wonder?

_____________________

The green curse struck him again.

It had never hurt, it had always been a simple slip into the brace of Death.

Not this time.

It hurt more than the Cruciatus had, and he would know, seeing as he had been tortured by Voldemort himself.

Probably because of the Horcrux lodging itself into his soul.

But once it was over, he felt complete.

And this time, the feeling stayed.

He passed out.

_____________________

He was at the station, where the train was waiting again. Behind him stood the door to life.

The beings were waiting there.

"Now, you have one last chance to depart to the afterlife. This is your last chance, Harry Potter. Depart, and live in peace with your family. Voldemort will still be defeated, the war might not be as brutal as yours was, even... But Tom Riddle will never have gotten a chance. And, his afterlife may not be as pleasant for the first few centuries... Ah, but that will, of course, settle eventually as his Soul gets fixed. And besides, does he deserve such a chance? Do not forget how many lives he ended."

Harry looked at the train waiting for him.

The being was right, Voldemort had killed so many. And perhaps, he had deserved a chance in his youth, but hadn't he gotten one, in a way? He had gotten into Hogwarts, discovered his bloodline, and learned magic.

He had thrown it all away to make himself Immortal with questionable means, kill innocent people and try to take over magical britain.

He had been a child once, but no more.

No more... He had had to grow up early, and he had grown up twisted...

Ah.

Harry would always regret this choice, a part of him would. Who wouldn't?

But he knew he could never forgive himself otherwise.

"What wouldn't I do for a little bit of peace by now?" he smiled wistfully.

_Even if said peace comes with forever regretting the sacrifice..._

But, he had already chosen.

.

.

.

.

.

Harry James Potter cursed his hero complex as he threw himself through the Door of Life and back to his body.

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is the prequel to Dance of the Damned, which has not yet been published.
> 
> Can be read as a stand-alone.


End file.
